Faith of Our Fathers

This Sunday, our parish priest began his homily with a quote from Pope John the 23rd. To give context to the quote, it was apparently given to a group of American parents who had been given a private audience with the Pope to discuss challenges in regards to parenting in a modern world. In his address to them, he said "It is easier for a father to have children than for children to have a real father [...] The act of having children no more makes someone a mother than the act of owning a piano makes makes someone a musician." Ultimately, there is more to being a parent than mere biology. The purpose for this quote was to encourage parents to invest time in the lives of their children and I was forced to think about my own beginnings, my parents, and the parents I have never known.

Those of you who know me, know that I am the product of adoption. It is not a sensitive topic for me in any way and I believe I am very well adjusted when it comes to my handle on life, the universe, and everything. I have never been racked by feelings of abandonment (at least not due to adoption) nor have I ever questioned whether or not my parents loved me, adoptive or biological. I have never felt a strong desire to seek out my biological parents, nor have I ever, not even in my rebellious adolescent tantrums, suggested that my Mom and Dad "were not my real parents."

I have always known that I was adopted...that is, I cannot remember not knowing or how it was that my parents first told me I was not theirs through biological means...and it has never troubled me. I have always understood that my biological parents could not provide for me the life they wanted me to have. They made their decision based on a love for me more than any other consideration. They made prequalifications as to what kind of family could have me. They used a Catholic adoption agency and it was important to them that I be raised Catholic. They chose an agency that practiced anonymous adoptions, and I have always felt that that choice deserved more respect than any curiosity I might have personally. Above all, I was raised in a loving, forgiving, and supportive family in which I can see (as an adult, if not always so clearly as a child) the patience, self-sacrifice, and enduring (and often quiet) love of my mother and father. I have never for a moment thought the "grass might be greener" on the other side of parenting and these facts play a major role in my personal identity. On both sides of this story of adoption I see two resonating themes...the first being the undeniable transformative power of Love...and the importance and persistence of Faith as a product of understanding what Love is and has the power to do.

My life has given me greater understanding of God the Father and Christ the son. I can feel the story of Christ's being more acutely. I can empathize with Mary and Joseph, and experience my brotherhood with Christ through a spirit of adoption unlike the way others might. I can express, at times when I am forced to stop and think, how much I love my Mom and Dad and the surety I feel that one day I will see the face of my biological parents and be able to express the love and gratitude I feel for and to them...and the choice that they made for me. Their choice, and the way they made it, gave me Faith from the very beginning, a confidence and strength that has been my shield through whatever slings and arrows I have faced. Their choice, solidified by my Mom and Dad and their daily and persistent example of love for me and for each other, has made me who I am, in the version of me that I most like. To my Moms and Dads...I love you, both in California, and in parts unknown.

What impact have your parents had on your life and if it applies, what type of parent are you? When was the last time you told your parents you loved them? If you have kids, have you hugged them recently, played a board game or thrown a ball around anytime lately?

As for me and my house, we wish you a very Merry Christmas and the Happiest of what the New Year has to offer.

The Heart of the Matter

This week was full of surprises, most of which were unwelcome. Monday morning, as I was rolling out of my driveway on my way to school, my car died. It was a minor inconvenience, and thankfully, a minor repair. Our family of two has two vehicles and life is not nearly complicated enough for us to be unable to manage under the circumstances. As I was now driving the vehicle usually used by my wife, I was in relatively foreign territory. In marriage, the two became one...but not one set of radio presets. I found myself listening not to my usual station, but rather NPR. Strangely, I did not change the station.

I found myself listening to the following radio interview with CNN's Christiane Amanpour:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=97744907&ft=1&f=1012

Christiane had recently finished a CNN documentary entitled "Screaming Bloody Murder" focusing on 6 stories of Genocide in the modern era and the concerned voices that tried to bring them to the world's attention. During her recounting of the situation in Rwanda, she told the story of a dinner she was invited to share with a Rwandan widow and the man of the rival tribe that had killed the woman's husband and children. For those that will listen to the interview above, the story starts at 10:17 on the track as you may not be interested in the life story of Christiane Amanpour. The murderer of the widow's family had been a neighbor. Now, she had found it within herself, and with God's help, to forgive him because, in her words, "Nothing is going to bring the dead back. I am a Christian and I believe in forgiveness." In stunned disbelief, Christiane watched as the woman prepared a meal for them and engaged the man in conversation about their daily lives.

As I listened, I began to think about the power of that forgiveness, but more precisely about the power of receiving it. Here was a woman that did not just say she forgave the man who took her life's heart away from her, but who continued a relationship with him even unto the point of gracious service. What could that forgiveness possibly feel like? Can that man conceive of the power of his release? Can we? I have heard the existence of Hell described as the complete and irreversible absence of God's love...that is, a permanent state, with the full knowledge of the wonder and immensity of God's love and the further knowledge that you will forever be apart from it. Take a second to dwell on that statement. What a dark, dark, place that must be. We pray every time we say The Lord's Prayer that God would "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us"...yet how often do we create a Hell on Earth for those with whom we withhold forgiveness? And for what? I would venture to say far lesser things than murder. How many of us have friends or family that we don't speak to anymore because of something that happened in our collective pasts? What caliber of "sin" could they possibly have committed against us to warrant their own "little hell"? What pain and agony have we felt as members of the unforgiven? I have done my best to try not to feel on a daily basis the effects of divorce in my life. I cannot begin to describe how thankful I am to have a wife who has forever given me the triumph of faith, optimism, and love over the tragedy of my personal experience...a woman that has dedicated herself to being a model of God's unchanging love for and boundless forgiveness of...me. Are we able to forgive and crucify our pain? Are we able to allow it to die with Jesus so that we may rise with Him? Advent is a reminder that we were in the dark, but were given a great light. Who in your life needs that light? Have you given it freely or withheld it from them? Can you do it, even if it means it might not be returned?

With those questions being asked, we return to Don Henly and The Heart of the Matter:

There are people in your life who've come and gone
They let you down; you know they hurt your pride
You better put it all behind you baby; life goes on
You keep carryin that anger; it'll eat you up inside, baby
I've been trying to get down
To the heart of the matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think its about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if, you don't love me anymore